Bouquets of your childhood.
Coronation with all the pomp and circumstance your 5 year-old-self could muster.
Sacred rituals bound with the sap of weeds
and muddy knees.
Eventually scattered in the breeze
like the dreams of your childhood
There is a way out of the this
We will live to see another day
Our life will find a new normal
Sunglasses will be worn in the brightness of of day
